


Ficlets: Swan Queen Moments

by Adm_Hawthorne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adm_Hawthorne/pseuds/Adm_Hawthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of little scenes of domesticity between Emma and Regina. Some are a little angsty, but everyone is mostly fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decorating

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are not mine. They belong the Disney. Everything belongs to Disney. I get nothing out of writing this but the pleasure of the occasional review, so please don't sue me.

“A little to the left.” Regina pointed in the appropriate direction, raising an eyebrow in irritation. “Your other left, Ms. Swan.”

“Okay, first of all,” Emma said between grunts as she struggled with the heavy piece of furniture. She wasn’t sure when she’d signed up to be the mayor’s internal decorator, but she wanted out of the deal, “I’m not in trouble, so drop the Ms. Swan routine, and, second of all,” she carefully set the chair down in the indicated space, rubbing her hands on her jeans to soothe the ache, “why can’t you use your magic to move this stuff?”

“The same could be asked of you,” the brunette shot back with a smug smirk.

“Really?” The sheriff rolled her eyes and plopped down in the chair. “That’s it. I’m not moving anything else in this office. You’re on your own, Madam Mayor.”

“Am I?” Regina strolled across the office to lean against the arm of the chair the other woman occupied. “How about I make you deal?”

Emma sniffed disinterestedly. “You can try.”

“If you finish moving everything to where I’d like for it to be in my office,” Regina’s voice dropped a few notches as she leaned over to let her breathe run across the shell of the younger woman’s ear, “I’ll make the earth move for you tonight, dear.”

With a grunt, Emma pushed up from the chair and quickly glanced around the room. “So, where do you want the coffee table?”


	2. What's in a Name?

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking…”

“No,” Regina replied flatly as she continued to read the newspaper.

“Oh come on! Regina, you haven’t even heard what I was about to say,” Emma whined, crossing her arms and huffing. “The least you could do is listen to my idea before you shoot it down.”

“The _least_ I could do?” The brunette sniffed, flipping to the next page in The Mirror. “Oh, did you see this?” She turned the paper to other woman, who was now resting against the headboard with her eyes staring straight ahead. “The bug has finally decided to hire a receptionist. It’s about time, if you ask me. Hopper’s office has been getting busier as of late.”

The sheriff huffed. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what? I thought you wanted me to be more encouraging of the other people in this town?” Regina leaned back against her side of the headboard and moved a bit in the bed to resituate. “Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, the insect’s occasionally helpful. It’s nice to see his business is doing well despite what that implies about the townspeople’s psyche.”

“That’s not what I mean, and I know you know it.” Rolling her eyes, Emma turned to the woman beside her. “Why do you feel the need to shoot me down before you even hear what I have to say?”

“Because the answer is _always_ going to be no to the question or suggestion you’re about to make,” Regina calmly replied, turning to the next page in the paper.

The younger woman grumbled. “You don’t even know…”

“I have a name, Emma, and it’s _not_ ‘Gina’ or ‘Ginny’ or ‘Gi’ or ‘Gigi’ or ‘Reg’ or ‘Reggie’ or whatever other horrible destruction you can think of for my first name.” The brunette firmly shut the paper and set it aside to turn to look at the other woman. “I understand you’d like to give me some sort of pet name or nickname, and I get that you see it as a term of endearment, which is perfectly fine so long as I’m also perfectly fine with name, but, so far, all of your suggestions have been lacking.”

“Mom shouldn’t be the only one who gets to call her significant other by a cool nickname,” the brunette weakly protested.

“I would argue that ‘Charming’ isn’t exactly a cool nickname, and, while we’re on the subject, ‘Reginitta’ is also _not_ a cool nickname.” Regina sighed heavily. “Emma, it’s enough that we love each other. There’s nothing we’re required to do to show that to anyone but each other. We don’t need to somehow brand or mark each other for the public.”

“I know, and that’s not what this is about.” Emma gave a resigned sigh. “I just… I want to call you something no one else does because, when you’re with me, I just… I get the feeling you’re someone that no one else sees, and that makes me feel special. You know, like I’m someone… you know, forget it. It’s stupid.” She took in deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. We don’t need nicknames.”

“Raya,” the brunette said quietly.

Emma turned to stare. “What?”  

“One of the kitchen staff in the place in which I grew up called me that.” Regina glance away, pushing at the paper as a way to avoid making eye contact. “She was always kind to me.” She smiled slightly. “She taught me to bake apple turnovers.”

“Oh,” Emma breathed out. “It’s pretty.”

“It means Regina,” the older woman replied with a quiet chuckle.

The blonde nodded. “I like it.”

“So did I.” Turning back, the brunette forced herself to meet the other woman’s eyes. “She’s the only one who ever called me that. In fact, I believe she’s the only one who know about the name.”

“And now there are two?” Emma questioned with her eyes as much as her voice, reaching out to take Regina’s hand in her own and give it a squeeze.

“If you’d like,” the other woman answered quietly.

“I’d like that,” the younger woman whispered leaning over to place a soft kiss on the brunette’s check, “Raya.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *secretly hopes that enters someone else's head canon*


	3. Adulting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Imagine your OTP jumping on the bed together.

“What are you doing?” Regina leaned against the bathroom’s doorframe and crossed her arms.

“What does it look like?” Emma bounced a few more times on the large king sized bed. “We’re away from Storybrooke, and I intend to do all the stuff I feel like doing before we have to go back and be…”

The brunette cocked an eyebrow. “Adults?”

“Well, I was going to say in charge, but,” the younger woman let herself fall unceremoniously onto the bed so she could roll off to stand, “yeah, we can go with that.”

Regina laugh quietly, giving a little shake of her head. “And what, exactly, are we going to tell the hotel if _you_ break the bed because of your shenanigans?”

“Really?” The blonde held her hand out and waited until the other woman took her offer. Grinning madly, she pulled them both back onto the bed, tugging Regina up so they were both standing in the middle of it. “We’re going to tell them that we were having a good time, and the bed couldn’t take everything we were giving it to handle.”

Regina snorted. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to phrase things. However, if you think I’m going to join you in this childishness, you’ve got another think coming, dear.”

“Oh, come on, Raya! You know you want to jump on the bed. I bet you’ve never done it before, but you’ve _always_ wanted to.” Emma gave just a little jump, causing the brunette to wobble ungracefully. “This might be your only chance. YOLO!”

“Do _not_ _ever_ use that phrase near me again, Swan.” Regina narrowed her eyes. “I mean it, and,” she signed heavily, “fine, but, if you ever tell a soul…”

“Hey, my lips are sealed. What we do in the bedroom is between the two of us. Everyone else will just have to keep using their imagination.” Winking at the other woman’s eye roll, Emma leaned forward to take Regina’s hands in her own, and they began to bounce together. “See? Fun, right?”

Chuckling, Regina nodded as best she could while they bounced away. “Only because I’m doing this shenanigans with you, Emma.” 


	4. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Imagine your OTPs first dance at their wedding. In the middle of the emotional, but serene moments, their young child runs into the dance floor and clutches to person A. Person B takes a step back to enjoy the view of their young family.

It’d taken them years to get here, and now that they’d made it, Emma felt overjoyed. They were all finally a family in every sense of the word. It’d taken so much sacrifice to get to this moment, so many lives had been lost: Neal, Marian, Hook, Blue, Robin…

So much in their lives had gone so very wrong, but their ceremony had gone flawlessly. Regina had been positively stunning. Not a hair out of place and eyes so full of hope and love, the brunette was absolutely the epitome of a blushing bride.

Emma considered herself to lean a little more toward the awkward groom, if they were going to choose gender roles, though her long white dress with just hints of red which matched the hints of red in her wife’s dress probably made her _look_ more like an awkward bride.

Whichever, they were both fairly accurate. In general, she simply felt awkward.

But now? Now they were about to have their first dance as a married couple, and all eyes were on them. She thought she’d feel embarrassed and uncomfortable with the entire town watching the two of them, but all of her attention rested in the deep brown eyes staring back at her.

Nothing could take her away from this moment and this woman.

As she swept the brunette around the dance floor, she felt something push at her leg, and she looked to find Roland hugged around Regina’s legs, causing the couple to come to a full stop. Emma could hear the anxious sounds from the onlookers, probably wondering what the two women were going do to, but she already knew. Little Roland was theirs just as much as Henry was, and, right now, he needed to know Regina wasn’t leaving him to be with Emma.

She understood that better than most.

Giving her wife a gentle smile, she stepped back and gave Roland a push toward the other woman. “Remember to look up and not at your feet, buddy. Okay,” she whispered as she pulled her hands together in front of her and watched the happy tears finally spill over Regina’s cheeks.

The brunette gave her a warm, thankful smile as the little boy took her hands and finished the dance while Emma watched on, her own happy tears threatening to fall.


	5. Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Imagine your OTP watching a movie from their childhood and being disappointed with how dumb the movie is.

“No,” Regina said in a stern voice as soon as she walked into the rec room. “Absolutely not.”

“Normally, I’d argue with you, but I don’t think I can get through this movie now, which sucks because it was my favorite movie when I was a kid.” Grunting, Emma leaned forward to grab the remote. “But I guess dealing with the real deal has sort of ruined it for me.”

The brunette settled into the couch beside the other woman. “There’s nothing wrong with the idea of being young at heart,” she said while reaching over to pluck the remote away, “but Peter Pan was anything but young.”

“But not in the Disney movie. In the Disney movie, he’s just a kid who never grew up and can fly and plays with mermaids and chases his shadow because it gets loose and… hmmm,” the blonde scrunched her nose up. “You’ve ruined all things in this movie for me, haven’t you?”

Regina scoffed. “What on earth are you talking about? How have _I_ managed to ruin this movie for _you_?”

“Between the magic lessons, which means I now know why none of that could possible work like the movie says it does, and the fact that, you know, Pan was actually a super evil guy trying to take out our son, there’s no way for me not to see this movie as the most ridiculous thing ever.” Emma huffed. “The movie really stupid when you stop and think about.”

“Imagine how I feel about _any_ rendition of ‘Snow White,” Regina replied with a groan. “Trust me, dear, anything this world produces pertaining to our world is stupid.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Damn, I just wanted something light hearted and fun to watch.”

“There are other animated movies out there that aren’t based on us.” Regina held the remote up and began searching. “How about _ParaNorman_?”

“Yes,” the younger woman approved as she leaned over to settle her head in the brunette’s lap. “And then ‘How to Train Your Dragon.”

Regina chuckled. “Of course, dear.” 


	6. Snails!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Imagine your OTP at a fancy dinner party.

“Do it, and I will destroy you,” Regina threatened just loudly enough for Emma to hear her.

The blonde grimaced. “I’m not eating this,” she harshly whispered back, keeping her face as pleasantly neutral as the other woman’s.

“You are the wife of the mayor, you are the sheriff, and you are the heir to the throne,” Regina countered, though to those who might see them from across the elegant table, they might have been talking about how lovely the dinner had been so far and how wonderful it was that the more influential families of Storybrooke had been so gracious in putting together this celebration at the country club for the mayor’s reelection. “You _will_ eat that.”

“Nope, not happening. I don’t eat snails,” the younger woman whispered in a sharp tone. “I also don’t eat anything with eyes that stare back at me while I’m trying to eat it, brains, tongues, intestines, or anything that comes from a chimera.” She smiled, a dare in her eyes.

Regina returned the smile, a death threat lurking behind her shining brown eyes. “If you don’t eat at least one, it will be considered an affront, Emma. These people aren’t just the well-to-do in this town, they were minor nobles in the Enchanted Forest. They expect a certain level of decorum from their elected officials _and_ from their royalty.”

“Regina,” Emma tried and somewhat failed to not hiss back, “they’re _snails._ We have those crawling around in our garden _right now_. I can’t eat that.”

“Fine,” the older woman gritted out from behind a somewhat tense smile, “then do what the rest of the royalty does when we have to save face. Put one in your mouth, pretend to chew, and then spit it into your napkin when you wipe your mouth. Don’t be obvious about it, and immediately afterward make a comment loudly enough for all to hear that you’re too full to go on.”

“That means I’ll have to not eat for the rest of this thing,” Emma whined. “It’s six courses long, and we’re only on the third. I’ll miss dessert.”

“Then you have to decide right now which is more important to you: swallowing down three snails and getting dessert or putting one in your mouth and then remaining hungry for the rest of the night,” the brunette snapped back, reaching over to place a hand lightly on the other woman’s arm as if they were discussing something amusing. Her grin developed an edge and her grip became uncomfortably tight. “You need to choose _now_. They’re watching us.”

“I hate this,” the blonde grumbled, turning to the table and reaching for the correct fork. “I hate everything about this, and I demand Granny’s for dinner tomorrow.” Without more protest, she forced down the first of the three snails.

“I’ll consider it if you behave for the rest of the night,” Regina replied as she turned to eat her own waiting escargot. 


	7. Badass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Person B gets a scar on their face. Person A starts to comfort them. However, to Person A’s surprise, Person B thinks that their scar makes them look badass and can’t stop showing it off to anyone they meet.

“It’s going to leave a scar,” Whale said, leaning in to examine the wound running from Emma’s cheek down to just a few millimeters before the right corner of her mouth. “You might want to check to see if magic can help. Maybe Blue knows of a way to stop it from healing into a scar?”

“Oh god, Emma, I’m so sorry.” Regina reached out to place a comforting hand on the sheriff’s arm. “You should have let them attack me. I could’ve…”

“Gotten killed,” the sheriff finished, wincing as the doctor carefully cleaned and rebandaged the wound.

“I’m sure Blue can do something to keep it from scarring,” the brunette offered, trying to comfort the other woman. “It may not have to scar.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma turned to give the brunette a hard look. “No way! This is awesome. I’m going to look like such a badass. All the bad guys who come rolling into town from here on are going to be all, ‘Oh shit, bitch’s got a scar on her face. She doesn’t take crap from anyone.’ I’m totally owning this.”

Regina gawked for a moment, her free hand going to the scar on her own lip for a brief moment. “You think people with scars on their faces look like badasses,” she asked, voice somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“Well, _you_ have a scar on _your_ face, and _you_ are the most badass person I know, so yes.” Emma grinned as best she could with the stitches still in her face. “We’ll be badass _looking_ together. I mean, we’re already badasses together.” She shrugged

Whale huffed. “You two are almost as bad as Mary Margaret and David,” he muttered as he finished up.

“I should set you on fire for even suggesting that,” Regina snarled back.

“Actually, I’m pretty hungry. Could we forgo setting Whale on fire today and hit Granny’s instead?” The sheriff bumped her shoulder playfully against the other woman. “I’ll share my fries with you.”

“I don’t eat fries,” Regina weakly protested, though she began to get ready to leave.

Emma snorted. “Uh-huh,” she replied, giving Whale a look that said Regina _totally_ eats fries. 


	8. Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From OTPPrompts.tumblr.com: Imagine your OTP adopting a child and person A falling asleep with the child in their lap and person B taking a picture.

Five almost consecutive meetings, a working lunch, and one major town catastrophe avoided had Regina feeling every bit of the 60+ years she’d been alive, and, given how absolutely bone-weary she was as she entered her home, she wondered if she actually  _looked_ her age for a change.

Her saving grace was the knowledge that Emma and Roland were waiting for her, and, despite the fact it was drawing near the little boy’s bedtime, she was honestly hoping for just a few moments with him before they tucked him in. He always seemed to sleep better if they were both there to tell him goodnight.

Since they’d made the decision to adopt him after the events that led to both of his parents passing on, she’d noticed he’d begun to settle down. He and Emma were slowly becoming friends, though she felt Roland was protective and territorial of Regina even with Emma, which meant he was sometimes excessively cranky and ill-tempered whenever Emma tried to be affectionate with Regina and he was in the room.

Regina was afraid Emma would be resentful, but the younger woman had been incredibly understanding and supportive. She’d explained one late night after Roland had been particularly troublesome that he was probably afraid Regina would leave like Robin and Marian had, so he was clingy. Regina was, after all, the only real mother figure he’d ever know, and his little world had been completely destroyed when Robin was killed by Jafar.

It was that night that Regina had decided she was never letting go of Emma. Anyone who could hold such patience and understanding as Emma had with Roland was someone to hold on to, not that she wasn’t planning on keeping Emma long before Roland became their son.

However, the tension between the little boy and his blonde adopted mother sometimes ran particularly high, and Regina often worried about them being alone when she worked late, such as tonight.

As she entered the living room, she realized her worries were for naught. Passed out on the sofa was her significant other, legs askew and hair splayed out about her head with an equally unconscious Roland laying on top of her with his arms and legs spread out over her body.

They looked like two peas, and it was all Regina could do to keep her chuckle at bay lest she wake them. Quietly, she pulled her camera out to snap a few pictures. This was something to put up on the family wall in the rec room. She couldn’t wait to show Henry.

Turning to head up stairs, she moved as silently as she could. They looked too comfortable and much too cute to wake and relocate.

 

 


End file.
